


How Good It Feels (To Be Needed)

by Reshism



Series: Those Dirty Gotham Nights [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Coming Untouched, Demisexual Jason Todd, Dry Humping, F/M, First person porn because why not, Getting Together, Grinding, Hickies, It's briefly mentioned but valid anyway, Love Bites, Nipple Play, Other, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reader has a vagina, author is soft and lonely and in love with Jason Todd and it shows, no beta we die like robins, this is more feelings than I planned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reshism/pseuds/Reshism
Summary: Jason Todd and the reader have been friends for a while and edging towards something deeper. Between a rainy night, the Great British Bake Off , and a weird little quirk reader can't help but notice, they decide to take the next step.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Reader
Series: Those Dirty Gotham Nights [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740685
Comments: 13
Kudos: 220





	How Good It Feels (To Be Needed)

It doesn’t take too long knowing Jason to notice the neck thing. Well, to be fair, anyone who spends as much time as I do looking at Jason Todd would likely notice. I know the rest of this weird ass furry family must know, at least. Whether I like it or not (I do) Jason has made himself the center of my attention since the day we met. So, considering the fact that he has had my undivided attention for the greater part of a year, I can say with complete confidence:

Jason Todd has a _ thing  _ when it comes to his neck. Not a particularly bad thing either, if I have been reading him correctly. The Red Hood? He keeps his neck covered for obvious reasons. But Jason? Can’t even put on a tie without getting a pretty blush on his cheeks, let alone have anyone tie one for him. 

Logically I know he could just be ticklish, but I don’t think so.

I watch Jason duck away from the arm Dick drops around his shoulders. Dick does that a lot, tactile person that he is and while the shoulder bumps and other forms of affection have slowly become more common between them, Jason almost seems to crawl away from this particular brand of touch. Dick doesn’t blink at the rejection, just props his arm on the broad shoulder(an action he is too short to do, but that never stops him it seems).He’s talking (shouting) about how many people he can fit on his new motorcycle to a progressively more intrigued looking Tim and Duke. To their left I can see the trepidation growing in Bruce’s eyes. 

“If Demon-brats rides between the handle bars you can fit Steph on the back,” Jason chimes in with a grin, eyes trained on Bruce’s face as well. With that addition they are up to six people, counting Dick. I am person number three, followed by Cass and now Steph. 

Dick’s eyes sparkle and I call that my cue to leave, lest I end up falling off the back of a bike “for science”. 

I stand up, back popping violently as I uncurl from the wing-back chair I had sunken into after dinner. All eyes turn to me, everyone but Bruce and Damian looking hopeful. 

“Tell me how that works out. I can live without knowing first hand if Dicklet is right.” 

Dick sticks his tongue out at me before pivoting back to the others. 

“Now we have an empty spot! Duke?” Dick asks, shooting the boy a questioning smile.

“Yeah, why not.”

With that agreement the batkids, with the exception of Jason and Damian, all move toward the study, their determined strides obviously taking advantage of Bruce’s silence thus far. The man in question remains sitting on the couch, seemingly torn between stopping them and just letting it play out. The decision is made for him when Damian pipes up.

“Father,you plan to allow this foolishness? Grayson’s vehicle can’t possibly hold all of them.”

“We will know that for sure soon enough. I believe they are saving you a seat though,” Bruce teases. Damian looks affronted, but before he can respond Dick calls him from the cave. We all watch him waiver for a moment before he tips his nose and marches out the room with a quiet tut. Bruce’s mouth quirks slightly at the corners.

I turn to Jason.

“Don’t you wanna go supervise? The handlebar thing is on you. He isn’t  _ that _ small.”

Jason grins down at me, crooked and chaotic. I just roll my eyes in response. 

I smile at Bruce and pat his shoulder as I walk past, then head to the kitchen, popping my head in to say goodnight to Alfred. Jason follows me to the door on my way out. He is quiet but I can feel his good mood. It rolls off him in waves, more often than not nowadays. It’s a little intoxicating. The air is this and humid outside, the mugginess of Gotham summers not something I might ever get used to. I am glad I didn’t bring a jacket.

“Walking me home before patrol?” I ask. I know the answer, we do this often enough. 

But he stays quiet. His typical “I live this way, don’t feel too special,” doesn’t come, so I turn to him. The general happiness of a successful day with his family is still there, but now his face is a bit smoother. I would even suggest that he’s nervous.

“You good?” 

Jason blinks at me.The crooked smile returns, but it’s softer now, though no less troublesome. 

“Worried about little ole me?” he coos in a terrible southern drawl. I bark out a laugh when he flutters his eyelashes.

His long, _ long, _ dark eyelashes. 

We’re outside and it’s raining now, a summer storm because it’s Gotham, but he’s glowing under the yellow of the manor’s porch-light. From where I stand halfway down the steps I can see how those lashes brush his cheeks. 

“Yeah, I am.” 

Jason and I just look at each other for a moment. We do that a lot too, and I know for a fact that I have never been subtle, not the way the bats can be. But right now his face is open and I can see something in his eyes that makes my skin prickle all over. 

“I brought my bike. If you want a ride. Or we can go back inside and wait for an Uber for you.” I always want a ride. Fuck the rain. 

The trip back to my (suspiciously cheap to be as large as it is) apartment is quiet except for the steadily growing downpour. Jason drives quickly yet carefully through the barren Gotham streets, but we’re both drenched by the time he parks the bike around the back anyway. I peel myself off his back and head inside. He follows without hesitation. It’s barely 10 pm. We started watching the new season of the Great British Bake-Off last week and haven't had time to watch anymore since. 

“Put on some water while I get towels?” 

I call over my shoulder, the tension between us and the grossness of wet jeans making me rush to open the door and get inside. In my room I take a minute, grabbing the biggest towels I have and a shirt to put on in exchange for my drenched clothes. I scan my drawers for some clothes for Jason as well, settling on the largest pair of sweatpants I owned, a pair of Jason’s that I forgot I had stolen.

“You can shower if you want. Here,” I set the sweats on the island “ these should work if you want to hang your clothes up to dry.” 

“Thanks.” Jason grabs the pants and slides behind me, walking towards the bathroom. I stand still for a second before stripping quickly down to my underwear and yanking on the oversized shirt. It falls just above my mid-thigh.

Jason comes out of the bedroom just as I bend to grab my clothes. He grabs the pile from me and takes them into the bathroom. I hear the dryer start up with a thunk.

“I'm stealing these back, thief.” Jason says, grabbing mugs from the cabinet and passing them to me. I plop a bag of lavender chamomile into both mugs. 

“It’s not stealing if they are offered freely. We now have joint custody. I want weekends and holidays.”

“Bullshit. Every other week and I get Jewish holidays.”

“Jason, you aren’t Jewish.”

“Bruce is. Transitive property.”

We’re both laughing, his smoky laugh making my heart flip. It happens often enough that my hands don’t shake when I set the drinks down on the table by the couch.

“That isn’t how that works but I digress. What episode are we on?” 

We watch the first 15 minutes of the episode in relative silence, sipping our tea. The noise of the rain gets louder and the dimness of the room feels cozy. 

“We should make those,” I say, turning to look at him. The light of the TV outlines his profile when he looks back at me. We’re so close, I hadn’t even noticed, but I can see the freckles on his nose and cheeks, more prominent now that the sun has been coming out. I roll up to my knees to face him better, to make us the same-ish height. 

“Mhm. We can make all of the recipes, except the gross fennel ones because who the fuck want’s a fennel flavored breadstick, and we can make your family taste them in case they turn out terribly.” He says nothing, but I am not surprised. The whole time I am speaking I watch Jason’s face. Or rather, I watch him watch my mouth. Just to be sure I run my tongue over my bottom lip before biting it a bit. 

Jason’s eyes flick up to mine before dropping back again. Okay. _ Okay. _ I inhale sharply to steel myself before leaning forward and cupping his freckled cheeks. 

“Is this okay?” I whisper. He grins. 

“I’d say something if it wasn’t.” 

Jason’s mouth is soft when it connects with mine and he moans in the back of his throat. I shiver at the sound, curling over him. My right hand slides into his hair. It’s soft, if a bit greasy from the helmet, just barely long enough to really start curling at the ends. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth, happy when he moans again.

Without thinking twice I swing my leg over Jason’s lap, straddling him fully. Without breaking our kiss I wiggle my hips and get comfortable. Jason’s arm comes around my back, the other cupping my face now. I run out of air before he does (stupid bat training) and pull back. Teal eyes lock onto mine as I pant softly in his lap. His smile is large and sweet, making his face light up in a way I had never seen. Briefly my mind flashes to a fiery teenager who just wanted to save people and my heart thuds. He told me his story only recently and it has been bouncing around my mind ever since.

As I stare at it that smile changes shape, regaining some of the mischief. His voice, though, seemed to hold a touch of insecurity. 

“You wanna stop?”

I have to laugh a bit. 

“Fuck no. You’re just so pretty I got distracted.” As I talk my left hand slides off his cheek, brushing over his neck on the way to his shoulder. The motion makes him freeze, his retort catching between his teeth. 

I start to pull back, afraid of having done something wrong.  _ What did I? _

It hits me like a bolt.

Jason Todd has a neck thing. A neck thing I was just thinking about. A neck thing that makes we squirm and blush and  _ Oh _ . _ Alright.  _

Slowly I drag the pinky of the hand I have wrapped in his hair across the base of his hairline and I revel in the gasp it rewards me. His hands rest on my hips, and I roll them once, then again. 

I pull Jason’s head back slightly and lean to place a soft kiss at the base of his throat. A moan vibrates through the point of contact so I do it again.  _ Kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss. _ Across his throat, over both collarbones. My left hand slides down from his shoulder to his chest while I pepper him with pecks. Jason is tense beneath me, his breath coming in short bursts, his hands clenching and releasing on my waist with each one. 

“Should I stop?” I ask. His responding “No,” is shaky yet sharp. He squeezes again. He looks pointedly at the ceiling. 

The reaction makes me giddy and bold. I want him to come apart, to drop all the deeply ingrained boundaries and let me see what’s underneath. Dragging my lips across his skin I move up to the junction of his neck and shoulder, tucking my face into the faintly shivering muscle there. I am still, and Jason tenses further. I feel him open his mouth to ask why I stopped. Then in a burst of motion I roll my hips down, swipe my thumb over his nipple and lick his neck all at once.

Jason’s reaction is glorious. He arches his chest into my hand, his hips bucking, head dropping back hard against the wall. A high pitched whine reverberates from his stomach and through both of our bodies. I gasp out a moan in return. If I was warm before I am ablaze now, my feverish reaction even catching me off guard. Emboldened I clutch his hair harder, holding him still and drag my teeth across the spot I just licked. Another whine, even louder, breaks free and Jason clamps down on my rolling hips, pulling me firmer against him. 

I can feel his hardness through the sweats where they press against the thin lace of my panties. My thighs shake at the fact that this is all my doing, that that hardness is coming from my hands and my mouth and my body on him. 

We are grinding in earnest now, my hips swiveling in tight circles on his lap as he bucks up into me. At no point does my mouth leave his throat and I move over every spot of slightly stubbled skin I can reach, marking him with bite after bite. Jason’s whimpers grow louder with every second, his self control in tatters on the ground. He’s getting close, I know it.

I pull back. Jason’s eyes flutter open and the look on his face makes my body ache with need. My pussy clenches down on nothing and I hump down hard against him. Those long lashes flutter, that pretty mouth falls open. 

He’s gorgeous.

I want to make him cum.

Tugging his hair again, I pull his head to the side, stretching his neck back as far as it can go. A moment of stillness, then I lean down and drag my tongue from his collarbone to the spot just below his ear. Jason is outright panting, broken moans liberally interspersed. With my hips rolling a mile a minute, my left hand alternating between pinching and rolling his nipple, his thrusts begin to stutter. 

Opening my mouth wide, I clamp my teeth down on the skin and muscle beneath his ear and without releasing suck _ hard  _ on the flesh in my mouth. 

“Aaahhhhhhh,” Jason screams out. One hand comes up to the back of my head, holding my mouth in place. The other slides across my lower back, his arm forming a bar behind me, clasping me to him. My soaked thong is pressed tight to his cock and I can feel each throb as he cums into his pants. My pants.  _ Holy shit. _

It takes nearly a minute for his back to relax and sink back towards the couch. I detach from his neck, admiring how even in the dark I can see the huge mark I have left. With the hand on his chest I push up, untangling my right hand from his hair, and when I look at him he is looking at me already. 

“You never mentioned being a vampire,” he says. The attempted snark fails because I can tell that he is trying to regain control of his breathing. Beneath me with his tousled hair, lazy grin and cocked eyebrow, Jason Todd is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. And I am suddenly reminded of my own burning desire. Obviously something shows on my face, because the arm still around me tightens even more.

“Oh. Fuck.”

Suddenly I feel overwhelmed, too close. His face is intense, his eyes clearer than they were just a moment ago. Without breaking eye contact Jason’s arm releases from my back and slides around. Gentle fingers travel over my hips and thigh and rest on my lower stomach. I am trembling all over, the eye contact and the gentle touches filling me with crackling electricity. Rough fingertips slip beneath the waistband of my underwear, making me buck forward. I bite my lip. A small part of me wants to be embarrassed at how turned on I obviously am, but feeling him growing hard beneath me _ again _ kills that thought as soon as it crops up.

Jason doesn’t waste time, index and middle finger going straight for my clit. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, Jason, baby, fuck.” I don’t even know what I am saying. Faster and harder his fingers swirl. My eyes want to slip closed so badly but I can’t look away, not from those pretty eyes, not while he is panting and moaning just as much as I am. 

“Jay, Jay, Jason, _ baby boy please _ , fucking  _ hell. _ ” My voice breaks on the last word as my orgasm hits me out of nowhere. Jason lunges forward and licks into my open mouth. He bites and sucks at my lips and tongue and-It’s so much. His fingers are still moving on me while I shake my way through one of the best orgasms in my life. 

Eventually we pull apart when I can’t take anymore. My finger joints creak where I uncurl them from his muscled shoulders and I just know that I broke skin. Oops. 

I roll back so that my butt rests on his spread thighs. I look at him, at the light of the tv running behind me (our episode of GBBO is coming to an end, someone is about to go home) helping only slightly. 

Jason’s head is tilted back again,his mouth dropped slightly open, eyes closed. His breathing is long and slow and-

“Did you cum twice?” The question jumps out before I can think.

“Yeah,” Jason sighs out the word. 

“Fuck.”

“Yep.” I hear the smile in his voice. “What’s the damage?”

“Huh?”

“Your possessive ass tried to vore me, how’s it look? Do I need to steal a scarf from Timmy?”

“You can’t just say that! I didn’t try to  _ vore, _ ” I shudder ”you! And it isn’t half as intense as it probably feels. Lemme see.”

It is so much worse. Jason reaches a long arm over and flick on the lamp, bathing us in soft, pinkish light and my mouth drops. In the light his throat looks like it was mauled by a bear. Scratch marks litter his arms and bare chest, though I don’t recall when I did it. Glancing down I notice the sizable wet spot darkening the grey sweatpants, a mixture of both of our arousal. Jason is covered in marks of me. The thought makes me flush all over with pleasure. _ Good _ .

“Like I said. Possessive. Ass.” 

The words make my head snap up. Jason is smiling at me now, preening under my attention. On his face is something else beyond just the satiation of sexual release. Kiss bitten lips, rosy cheeks. His pupils are still the size of planets and he’s looking at me like I am something astonishing and-and- scary? 

He’s vulnerable, I realize. Not physically, no. But emotionally. This is not our routine. He doesn’t just have sex with people. We’d gone over that too one night, talking about our exes and our mutual adoration of Anne Hathaway. Demisexual. He has to  _ care _ before he touches. He’s teasing now, sure, but the air is still heavy in a way that implies even more must be said.

“So what if I am? Possessive and needy work perfectly together….within healthy limits” Boom. It’s out there.

“Needy? Who the fuck is being needy-” he chokes when I press a finger to one of the hickies littering his clavicle. 

“Like I said. Needy.” Then, after a pause. “Besides, you won’t see anything in the Hood outfit.”

Disappointment passes over his face before disappearing again.  _ Interesting.  _

Being more cautious than I have all night, I tangle our fingers together and bring his wrist to my lips. 

“I could leave marks somewhere a bit more visible of course, since these are more for me than anything. “

“For you, huh? Then what did I get out of this?”

“A girlfriend, if you’ll have her. She’s a bit possessive though. And she bites.”

Jason hasn’t pulled his arm away, though I am openly mouthing at his pulse point. He is quiet just long enough to make my nerves start to build before saying:

“Yeah, I want her. Biting is the fun part.” 

It’s the softest I’ve ever heard his voice. “I want her.” Her being me. He wants  _ me _ . I bite into his wrist, sucking for just a second before dropping the attached hand. Jason rolls his eyes but lets it happen.

Jason’s phone buzzes next to  him.

“Batstuff? I can get your clothes-” 

He shakes his head, “ No, I think they have it under control.”

With a huff Jason turns the screen to me, showing me a photo of Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph stacked onto a motorcycle with a very disgruntled looking Damian squeezed between Dick and the handlebars. All of them are in full vigilante regalia and appear to be drenched. Beneath there is a message:  _ He didn’t fit on the bars.  _

I snort. 

“Well in that case, come shower with me. My thighs are sticky and those pants are gross now.”

“Thank fucking God.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is longer than I thought it would be and is a lot more plot than porn. But that's okay. I know Jason is my weak spot. It's fine. Everything is fine.


End file.
